If
it's a PAIN in the ass, then you're doing it wrong!
By JC Clarke
Genre: Humor/ Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: The Graphics Shed
Editor: RE Hargrave
Warnings: Adult content (not Erotic)...do not to eat
or drink while reading...your Kindle will get messy. JC is not responsible for
any cracked ribs from laughing
His Princess was
a little bit eclectic, a lot of eccentric, and a big time potty mouth. She was
outgoing and loud, but held her friends and family close to her heart. She
ranted about everything wrong in the world and her wild passion made him fall
hard and fast. His life gave him the middle finger when she opened his eyes to
the beauty around him - or right in front of him.
Her ‘Prick-a-Doodle-Do’ was
uptight businessman through and through. He never saw the fun in anything and
she knew right from the start that she could have fun with this man and get him
to open his eyes. He made her see that she didn’t have to always be alone, even
when surrounded by people. His knack of bringing out the best in her was what
made her fall for him, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself.
Both of them were
raised in ‘high society’, but where one was guided by the rules, one had fun
going against them. He was her new boss and she didn’t give two hoots about it,
so when she was given an opportunity to express her views about a certain
subject, she readily agreed.
It was now her
personal mission to make the life of her boss a little harder, while
experiencing a little fun along the way.
“Bossman, what are
my shoes?” I asked and leaned back in my chair to put my feet up on his brand
new desk.
“Stilettoes?”
“Wrong, for
starters, no one calls them that these days. They’re either pumps or heels.
Normally, if they’re designer, you just give people that name. What color is my
shirt?”
“Red?” he asked,
puzzled at where I was taking this.
“No, it’s burgundy.
My hair is also in a low twist to the side, but you’d say that it was a ball of
mess on the side of my head. My point is, no female author should write her
male lead so . . . girlie. He shouldn’t know what cut her dress is or what the
exact shade of her nail polish is, because, putting it simply, men don’t know
these things. They don’t want to know. The second real men start showing an
interest, their girl will never stop asking for their opinions. All men want to
do for an easy life is say ‘Yes, dear’ and scratch their balls while watching a
game,” I ranted. All the while his eyes got wider.
“You need to calm
down, Princess,” he finally said, but I shook my head.
“But why? As
readers, we are basically paying these authors to produce shit work. I don’t
want to read that every male character has a monster cock and can give
award-winning oral sex. No virgin can deep throat on her first go and the
wording, oh my God. Do I really have to read every character announce that
they’re coming like a freight train in every sex scene. If the sex is good
enough, it should be clear to the reader in the description, not through ‘Incoming
orgasm approaching platform three, please stand clear of the gap!’”
J.C. Clarke lives
in the heart of the New Forest in England with her husband and four children.
Never a dull moment, her full house provides no shortage of inspiration which
fuels her writing. She loves reading and writing a variety of genres in
addition to dabbling with graphic art to create book covers, swag and more.
Facebook party happening June 26th. Giveaways,
games, author takeovers and laughs.
It's a BYOBB (Bring Your Own Book Boyfriend) ~
and a little wine never hurts.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Thanks for the support! <3
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